A celebration on "Mica Beach"

By the time we'd paddled about half way down Loch Shiel and the mountains had begun to recede on either side, the wind had dropped to a very light breeze.  It was still an assistance though and we would eventually cover the length of the loch at an average 7km/h despite taking plenty of time to dawdle and enjoy the situation.

Second luncheon was on the horizon and we pulled over to the west side of the loch to land at a beach we've passed previously but not landed on.  Stark when we saw it in winter conditions, it seemed a lot more welcoming with fresh green spring leaves opening and birdsong echoing across the hillside.

The glacial nature of the landscape is obvious in the ice-polished rock on the shore.  The geology in this area is quite complex, this looks to be a metamorphic rock type.  Among the pebbles on the beach we found some pieces of mica which were incredibly bright - almost mirror-like in their shine.  We'll know this place as Mica Beach on future trips.

The view back up Loch Shiel was very fine, bright blue water framed by steep hillsides clothed in green and backed by a mountain skyline.

Closer to hand, the spring flowers were in evidence on a grassy bank above the beach, the beautiful flowers of Wood Anenome (Anenome nemorsa) studded the undergrowth; a welcome sight.

Another welcome sight was a small libation of Caol Ila malt whisky, dispensed from Douglas' flask - for we had something to celebrate.....

.....the first day on the water for Douglas' new P & H Cetus MV kayak.  As we were marking h=the vent on fresh water, we would of course have to hold another launch ceremony when "Sula" first felt salt water!

Old friends above the valley of the deer

This is the first of two "catch-up" posts from the end of October.  A bright and breezy day looked good for a hillwalk, and looking at the map I realised that it had been a while since I'd been over the hill to Speyside. I decided to climb Corryhabbie Hill, but not via the usual route.

My route from Donside to Speyside climbs up through high farmland and across the Cabrach, an area of moorland studded with mostly abandoned buildings.  It wasn't always so and there's a good history of the Cabrach on "Lenathehyena's" blog.  The play of light was marvellous on this October morning, rainbows appearing and disappearing as showers passed through.

I started my walk at Bridgehaugh where there's space to park a couple of cars clear of the estate road and entrance.  A steep slope covered with bracken was virtually glowing against a blue sky.

A look at the map in the link above will show that the track leading southwest from Bridgehaugh goes upstream alongside a river which is by no means large, but has a name known throughout the world.  This is the River Fiddich, and this view looks along part of Glen Fiddich.  Downstream the river runs through Speyside's "whisky capital", the village of Dufftown.  Along the banks of the river are some of the best known of Scotland's distilleries; Mortlach, Balvenie and, of course, Glenfiddich among them. Nowhere else in Scotland (or indeed the world) has a higher concentration of distilleries than this corner of Speyside.

I walked alongside the river past the now delapidated Glenfiddich Lodge, a former shooting lodge, and took a track climbing above a bend in the river up into a landscape of rounded hills covered in wind-clipped heather.  the track made for fast walking and I was soon swinging around between two hills and beginning the climb to the broad ridge which forms Corryhabbie Hill's summit.

From the higher ground the views open up to be really expansive.  To the north west, the most distinctive hill in the area, Ben Rinnes, is prominent.  It's a hill which has given some great days.  The "normal" route to climb Corryhabbie Hill from Glen Rinnes comes up the track in this image - my route would only coincide with that one on the summit ridge itself.

To the north, the slopes of the wonderfully named Thunderslap Hill fall to the Dullan water, and rising beyond is the Dufftown "double" of Meikle and Little Conval.  Looking to familiar hills - old friends-  is one of the small joys of hillwalking, and the more hills one climbs, the more joy there is to be had!

On the upper ridge of Corryhabbie Hill I was exposed to a biting north wind - to the north there's no higher ground between these hills and the north pole....and today it felt like it.  I stopped to put on another layer, gloves and a hat. 

Crouching down to sort out my kit I noticed the stunning colour on tufts of Deer Grass (Trichophorum cespitosum).  The name is misleading, it's neither a grass (actually a member of the sedge family) or particularly favoured by grazing deer.  The name derives from the wonderful shade of the plant in autumn, reminiscent of the coats of Red Deer.  There was a theme here too, because "Glenfiddich" is valley of the deer in Gaelic. 

Wrapped up against the chill of the wind, I walked on along the ridge.

Roll out the barrel (s)

On a recent visit to Speyside we called by a cooperage serving the many whisky distilleries in the area.  There were some nice images to photograph, whether quite plain.......

...or full of vibrant colour.  It's possible, with a little knowledge, to guess the origin of some of these barrels - Glen Grant, Glenlivet, The Macallan and many more from Speyside, as well as examples from far and wide such as Islay's Laphroaig.

I liked this image with the end of a huge stack of barrels lit by sunshine with the backdrop of a storm-black rain cloud.

There are so may barrels here and in other cooperages they seem almost uncountable - and these are just the ones not in curent use; there will be many times more maturing in bonded warehouses throughout Scotland.  This seemingly endless supply is a good thing.....

......because we use some of the staves and lids to make handcrafted items, for lighting.....

.......or for enjoying the products of the barrels.  Looks like we'll not be running out of the raw materials any time soon!

A Jura salute for a Jura sunset

By the time we reached the Cumhann Beag (Little narrows) separating the hidden upper part of West Loch Tarbert from the middle part, the tide was running through like a river.  Our plans had been formulated to take advantage of each of the tidal streams we encountered during the journey, or at least planned to avoid paddling against the flow.  We'd also taken the wind direction into account in the wider route we envisaged...after all, our sails could help us!

Turning south west into the middle part of the loch, we headed into a searing early evening sun, the angle above the horizon a reminder that we should push on to find a campsite.  Although the bothy at Cruib Lodge would have made a fine base for the night, it would have left us a prodigious distance to journey on the following day, so we paddled on past towards the Cumhann Mor (big narrows) separating the central part from the wide outer loch.

Although we were keen to reach our camp site, there was a place to explore which simply couldn't be passed by.  The raised beaches near the Cumhann Mor are one of the most remarkable places in Britain, and so remote that most folk wouldn't even know of their existence.

The pebble ridge rises in a series of steps above the present day sea level - relic beaches from a time when the ice pressed down on this part of Scotland and the land was lower.

The top of the ridge is 15 metres above the present high water mark, and the pebbles are left clean and smoothed as if raked....just as they were left when the tide last went out here some 10,000 years ago.  Maurice and Sam hadn't been here previously, and the place had left a lasting impression on me from my previous visit....an remarkable landscape simply not to be missed.

After visiting the raised beach we paddled a short way along the south shore of West Loch Tarbert to another raised beach, this one much lower and backed by a level grassy bank - a good camping spot with fresh water nearby.  As a bonus, the Paps of Jura heaved into view over the glen behind the beach, and the sky was starting to colour with the imminent sunset.....time to get the tents up and dinner on the go.

When it came, the sunset was a show-stopper.  Dipping first beyond the northern headland of Loch Tarbert and then beyond distant Colonsay, the setting sun fired the sky to an intense burnt orange shade.  We saluted it with a dram distilled on the very island where we sat - and there was something extra special about enjoying whisky "in its own place" with such a spectacular view in front of us.

The noticeable drop in light levels as the sun set was followed by......

The effect of an increase in light levels as the sun began to illuminate the sky from below our visible horizon - it really was a sunset (and a dram) to savour.  More subtle than those pyrotechnic sunsets where there's some cloud to catch the light, this was a slow procession of gorgeous shades washing the whole of the western sky.

Well over an hour after sunset, a band of bronze light was still burning on the western horizon, rendering the low outline of Colonsay into sharp relief.  It seemed a long way out into the sea, but there lay tomorrow's destination.  We sat and chatted long into the evening... just enjoying the sense of place in this remote and wild spot.

The magic of a wild camp on Loch Sunart

By the time we reached Auliston Point we were in almost complete shelter from the southeasterly wind which continued to barrel up the Sound of Mull.  This had been one of the possibilities we'd discussed for our night's camp, so we gathered on the shore.....

...and climbed above the beach to a grassy meadow edged by basalt dykes with a great view across to Ardnamurchan. The ground was good for camping.......

....but the distance from the boats and the fact that the meadow was in the wind made it much less than ideal.  We decided to press on into Loch Sunart where we knew that there was good flat ground on the south shore of Loch na Droma Buidhe.  I was less than keen at the prospect of this spot for camping having previously experienced it in summer, and it would be completly sheltered from the wind which would very likely add midges and a flotilla of anchored yachts into the mix.

As it turned out, we found a great campsite before we arrived at Loch na Droma Buidhe; plenty of room on flat ground for our tents, accessible at all states of the tide and with a good supply of driftwood for the evening's fire.  We got the tents up and changed out of paddling gear, laying the kit out on the shore to air in the sun.  It had been a great day's sea kayaking in lively conditions, we could now relax into the evening.

David demonstrated his talents as a magician by first producing, like a rabbit from a hat, a collection of miniature bottles of Isle of Arran malt whiskies.

He then topped this - to the delight of the assembled audience - by making them disappear, one by one!.......

This was no sleight-of-hand illusion though,  there was magic in particular trick and the contents disappeared into our whisky cups!

This really is a big part of the magic of sea kayaking for me; a group of friends undertaking a journey together where the camps and the diversions are as integral as the distance travelled.  David's magic had been our pre-dinner entertainment and we were hopeful of a colourful evening "show".

In the pink at Erraid

 We reconvened on the beach at Martyr's Bay after visiting Iona's abbey in order to finalise the route for the rest of the day.  Our general plan was to head along the south coast of the Ross of Mull in order to paddle in relative shelter from the forecast northerly wind.

Once again we crossed the Sound of Iona, using the South Cardinal channel marker as an aiming point.  The UK buoyage system conforms to the IALA (International Association of Lighthouse Authorities) Region A model, so a South Cardinal mark indicates that safe navigable water may be found to the south of the buoy.  Although the depth isn't an issue for sea kayaks, we passed south of the mark anyway.....

...en route to the skerries to the west of Erraid.......

 ...and then south through Tinker's Hole to gain the south coast of the Ross of Mull.

 Once again we resisted the temptation of several lovely little white sand beaches.....

 ...as our sights were set on the head of Balfour's Bay.....

 ...with the promise of a sheltered spot from the breeze, and a landing on white sand fringed with crystal clear water - it's a hard spot to pass by!

 We intended to spend a leisurely hour at Balfour's Bay in order to enjoy the place properly.  I wandered around exploring first the beach itself.  The sand here is fine, clean silver white stuff, broken down from granite and glacial deposits.  I collected a jar of it and found it amazingly clean and constant in grain size.  The receding tide had etched ripples across a broad band of the beach, the lines of which seemed to continue into the fissured pink granite outcrops forming the arms of the bay.

 Douglas and I have both frequently referred to "pink granite" in this series of posts - so it's time to take a closer look....

 The granite which forms the Ross of Mull is about 414-420 million years old and was formed by the intrusion of a huge mass of silicic magma into the Moine rocks when they were still buried deeply during the Caledonian Orogeny (mountain building) period. 

The total mass of the granite intrusion may be as much as 50 square kilometres, with about half of this below the current sea level and half of it exposed to form the Ross of Mull.  Geologists describe it as "massive" and "coarse-grained" - the typical grain size is 2-5mm indicating that the rock cooled slowly within the Earth's crust.  In technical terms it's a K-Feldspar (Potassium Feldspar) granite and the predominance of K-Feldspar over white Plagioclase (another type of Feldspar mineral) gives the characteristic pink colour.  The dark crystals are a mix of biotite mica, smoky quartz and titanite.

The Ross of Mull granites typically form rounded outcrops but break naturally along joints in the rock which makes it convenient to quarry while its hard and consistent nature make it ideal for precisely dressed blocks.  The Stevenson lighthouses at Hyskeir, Skerryvore and Dubh Artach are all constructed of Ross of Mull granite - and it's no coincidence that these are the probably the most exposed of the "sea lights".  Other well known buildings to be constructed of granite from the Ross of Mull include Holborn Viaduct and Blackfriars Bridge in London, also the docks at Liverpool, Glasgow and even New York.

Under sunshine the granite is a striking warm pink and a great contrast to white sand and blue sea.....

 ...in fact we were so taken by the colours before us that we accompanied first luncheon with a small dram of Jura Superstition in order to toast the view......

....which was declared by unanimous verdict to be one of the very best!

Al fresco dining for three at Cruib Lodge

 After leaving the "Zen garden" raised beach we continued through the narrows and into the middle part of Jura's West Loch Tarbert.  It was now early evening and we were keen to get to our planned overnight stop.  A light breeze helped us, we were able to use our sails in addition to steady paddling for much of the way.

Loch Tarbert has three sections; a wide outer section open to the prevailing swell and weather passing between the islands of Colosay and Islay, a sheltered middle section and a smaller inner loch accessed vai the most unlikely of channels.  We were heading for a bothy in the middle section which remains hidden on approach........

 ...until a final corner is turned and the neatly kept bothy appears at the head of a small bay.  Our planned arrival time coincided with high water which meant that we had only to lift the boats from the water with no carrying involved.  This convenience did have a consequence though....we needed to be at the very head of the inner loch right on high water the following morning to avoid a long carry over mud.  As HW would be at 0641 we needed to be underway by 0600, but that was tomorrow's issue - for now we could enjoy being in this superb location and in warm evening sunshine.

 Cruib Lodge bothy is owned by Ruantallain estate who retain half of the building (open outwith the deerstalking season and locked for estate use in the stalking season) with half of the building  maintained as an MBA bothy open at all times.

It takes a deal of faith and trust for estate managers and owners to permit use of buildings as open bothies - and a good deal of work and cooperation to keep the buildings in good shape.  The trust, reputation and experience which the MBA has built up over 50 years is critical in maintaining the unique bothy tradition - and it's why I'm a member.  Membership gives no "rights" to bothies or any particular privilege other than contributing to something which is a national treasure.

The estate end of Cruib Lodge appears to have originally been a deer larder.  The hooks for hanging carcasses are still in place on large overhead beams and the large apertures now glazed with sash windows would have contained not glass but slatted wooden covers to allow airflow whilst the carcasses were hung and butchered.  The amount and size of the windows in this end of the bothy make it perhaps one of the lightest and airiest of all bothy rooms; Mike and I chose to put our sleeping things in this end, while Douglas chose the other room which would be warmer as we lit a fire in the grate with the wood we'd gathered earlier in the day.

 Above the fireplace is a well-stocked library, and it's the mark of a remote and well kept bothy that the books haven't been used as firelighters.  The peats placed around the fireplace were cut by Douglas' friend Tony who had visited some weeks previously and had left an entry in the bothy visitor's book.  After enjoying a great fire through the evening, we were able to add a good deal of dry logs to leave for the next occupants.

 A yacht which had passed whilst we were exploring the raised beach in the outer loch was anchored in the bay and other than that there was no sign of any other human activity - it's a truly remote and wild spot.  After sorting out our kit and changing into evening attire (not vastly smarter than our paddling attire!) we cooked our dinner.......

 .....which was served, accompanied by frothing sports recovery drinks and a post-prandial dram of Jura Superstition distilled just 15km from where we were dining, at a table on the terrace with marvellous views......

 .....over the bay and of a sunset lighting up the clouds in ever changing shades.

After dinner we got our fire going and sat chatting about this and other trips into the long Hebridean evening.  A glance outside showed a hazy full moon rising; a reminder that the following day would be Spring tides and that we needed to get an early start.

Alarm clocks set for 0500, we retired early and slept well after another great day on the west of Jura.